


Duels (Part 1)

by psychicmutt



Category: Hunger Games - Fandom
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-06 12:31:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicmutt/pseuds/psychicmutt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>District 8 has always been a weak district as textile factories do not allow for strong fighters. However, a boy with nightmares originating from the abuse he gains from his mother seems to be changing that perspective. Also, how does a mayor's son with a rare genetic disorder, one that hasn't been seen nor studied for at least 200 years, begin to help people think about the true nature of the Capitol? Welcome to the 50th Annual Hunger Games! Where 48 tributes are forced to compete, instead of the usual 24, causing an extended amount of time in the games. In order to stop boredom, what rule change do the Gamemakers enact upon the poor tributes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duels (Part 1)

When Atlas woke up, he noticed that he was the only one in the room. Strange, usually he woke before his brother. He guessed Otto was attending to apothecary needs, the only thing that could get him up early. However, Atlas woke early every morning, he didn't know why, he just did. 

Atlas stumbled out of the bed, and walked into his parents room, they weren't there either. His father probably had an early shift at one of the major textile factories of District 8, and then would be headed to the nearest bar to become drunk with wine. His mother was typically gone early in the morning to gather supplies for her own breakfast. Great, as usual, Atlas would have to find a way to care for himself. His family wasn't poor. Otto was probably one of the best Apothecaries in the entire district, but he often didn't charge money for his work. His father had a good income from the textile's factory, or at least enough to scrape by, but his parents were neglectful, especially his mother. She could be described as down right abusive, freaking out over the smallest things, and ending up beating her children. His father was no better, not even when he was sober, no he encouraged the behavior, sometimes even becoming abusive himself.

Atlas stripped himself of his clothes, and walked over to a water basin. He poured it over his head as he did every once in a while when his mother wasn't looking. He didn't like feeling unclean, so he made it a habit to pouring water over himself every few days or so. He took a small towel, dried himself off, and put his clothes on again. The clothes were very simple, black pants, a white shirt, and even a soft, warm, purple jacket that his grandfather had passed down to him before he died.

When he walked downstairs, he found that he was right in what woke his brother. A boy sat upon the table in just his underwear as Otto examined him. Atlas barely noted this going on as it happened often. The boy had messy, dark brown hair and brown eyes, a strong, fit build, and braces upon his teeth. The braces didn't surprise Atlas, the boy was the Mayor's son, and his mother was an actual Doctor. She was named the best in the districts in fact, though that wasn't saying much as there were probably around 10 doctors collectively throughout the districts. Atlas wondered why the boy had come to his brother, instead of her, though this was probably his tenth visit to the household in 4 months, so Atlas stopped wondering.

“Indigo, I don't think there's anything wrong with you.” Otto blurted out after the examination.

“So why do I feel bad?” Indigo, the boy sitting on the table, asked, though he hadn't looked at Otto in the eye since Atlas walked in the room.

“I don't know, maybe it's your disorder? Which means you should go speak to your mother about it, I don't know why you came here in the first place to be honest.” Otto was very annoyed, not believing anything Indigo was saying about feeling sick. Instead of answering Otto, Indigo had his eyes fixated on Atlas, not with any sort of angry expression, just staring. Otto noticed this, and prompted Indigo to leave “look, if you're really feeling sick, please go talk to your mother, she's the only one who actually knows anything about your disorder.”

“She's getting ready for tomorrow.” Indigo responded, as tomorrow was Reaping day for the 50th Annual Hunger Games. Her being the best doctor within the districts gave her the ability to move between districts and even the Capitol on special occasions, tomorrow was one of them.

Atlas finished the water he had been sipping during the conversation, but he hadn't been listening. He was staring out the window of the main part of the small house, the kitchen. When he finished, he dropped the cup into the sink. Indigo put his shirt and pants back on his body, and decided to leave, “I'll just see if my mom can do anything.” Otto was even more annoyed by this comment, but held his tongue.

“Okay, good luck tomorrow.” Indigo didn't need luck, he was the mayor's son. He was the most protected, and least likely 16 year old kid in the district to be chosen as tribute. He had no need to sign up for tesserae, and some even accused the Capitol of playing favorites with the children of the people who were chosen to lead, even though the districts knew that wasn't true. No, Indigo didn't need luck, he only had his name in the bowl 5 times.

Indigo thanked Otto anyway, and walked out the door of the household. A few minutes later, Atlas headed off to school, and saw Indigo sitting only 5 yards away from the house. Atlas gave him a slight smile, and began on his trek toward the school building. As district 8 was either the 2nd or 3rd poorest district in the entire country, fighting for 2nd place with 11, the school building operated as the safest place to be throughout the entire district. When he arrived, he found one of his best friends, Thalia Naysmith. They both shared the attribute of dirty blonde hair, however, Thalia was relatively short, around 5 feet, while Atlas was about 5 and a half feet. She also had blue eyes, as opposed to Atlas' dark green. Next to her stood Terra Inchcape, she had dark brown skin, and dark hair with brown eyes. She had 4 siblings, 1 sister, and 3 brothers, and was a part of one of the poorest families in her area of district 8. There were many days in which she went without eating, and her mother had all but starved to death trying to keep the children alive.

Even with these circumstances, Terra danced around on one foot, screaming 'hello' to everyone, and laughing as she did. This happened every year around the time of the Hunger Games. Instead of worrying about being picked, or a loved one being picked, Terra attempted to lighten the mood of others. Her dancing and love for everyone glued a smile upon all of the faces around her. She was so vibrant and full of life, not having a care in the world for the possibility of being chosen.

Thalia was quite different. She often worried about how she could scrape by if her brother was picked, or how her family would survive if she was picked. Terra seemed to be the only one that could possibly make her happy around this time of year. Atlas thanked Terra for that, he wanted no one to worry about this, but it was impossible. The sense of self preservation always kicked in and made seeing the brighter side of things nearly impossible, making Terra an anomaly. Though it made sense, Thalia and her brother provided the main source of income to her family. Even though Thalia was only 16, she had already begun to study for what she really wanted to be, a doctor. She even managed to convince Indigo's mother into teaching her.

Doctor's were a rarity in the districts as apothecaries did most of the medical work, and if there was a doctor, no one could afford it. Thalia wanted to become a real doctor, but only charge the same amount of money as an apothecary. “It took you a while to get to school this morning.” Thalia turned to Atlas, questioning him mostly on if his mother was in the house.

“I woke up a little late.” Atlas answered, he knew that everyone knew of the abuse from his parents, but he already had the occasional nightmare about it. He did not want to acknowledge it in everyday conversation.

Terra giggled, seemingly at another girl sleeping on the wall across from the group. “I saw the mayor's son in your part of the district this morning.” She said with another giggle.

“He came to my brother.” Atlas explained, “Otto couldn't find anything wrong with him, and just guessed it was whatever disorder he has.”

“His mother is a doctor, why would he come to Otto?” Thalia asked, squinting her eyes and crossing her arms over the dirty, white blouse she was wearing.

“He's always being examined by Otto, I don't know why. Even Otto is becoming very confused and annoyed.” Atlas responded. “Thalia how about you explain? You've been studying under Doctor Keene for a while, you tell us what the reason might be.” Atlas tried to bring the attention away from himself.

Thalia simply rebounded the attack, “tell me, what do you know about his disorder?”

“Nothing, all I know is it's genetic, and that it's very rare.” That much was true, as far as anyone knew, Indigo was the only one with the disease. Apparently it had been a very large problem before the world was destroyed, and before Panem was ever created. However, after that, multiple disorders and diseases had become seemingly extinct in the entire species. Around 200 years ago, doctors throughout the entire nation declared 4 disorders, one of which has now taken Indigo hostage, to have been eradicated from the genome of Homo sapiens.

“Nothing else?” Terra inquired, piercing her squinted eyes into Atlas.

“I know that it calls for a very strange dietary plan, typically he can eat normally, but sometimes he's not allowed to eat, and other times he's desperately required to eat something. Also, I know that he randomly passes out for no reason, and one time I think he fell into a coma.” Atlas continued, shrugging as he finished talking. “Look, why are we worrying about this? His mother is the only one on the planet that knows how to treat it, so I think he's covered.” They go on to talk about Reaping day, and half way through the conversation, Terra interrupts and forces the entire group to skip throughout the school building while linking arms. In the midst of all the laughter, Atlas was thankful for this moment as he was sure to be shaking in the morning.

Atlas walked home after a day filled with conversations concerning Reaping day and wishing others good luck, even though everyone knew it wouldn't help. He found the house empty. It was a very small house, only having 2 floors, and the top floor only had 2 bedrooms. Most people in the district called it a luxury house, which could only be afforded by the apothecaries. Even if they chose to not charge often, they did gain favors for their healing abilities. Most houses around his were simple, containing 1 floor, and maybe 3 rooms, which held 2 bedrooms and a kitchen/living area if the family got a good deal, and a small bathroom.

About two hours after Atlas arrived home, he set his dinner on the table, even making a meal for his brother, or whoever arrived home first. The bowl contained only boiling water mixed with the meat of a squirrel that Atlas caught throwing a knife. About halfway through the meal, his mother busted through the front door. “Atlas!” She yelled, and held up a small piece of paper in his face. “What is this?”

It was a tiny note that contained the grades he had earned for the semester at school. Atlas had done well in every class, except a couple which happened to be the least important classes in the system, but his mother didn't care. Otto was an apothecary. Their father worked in the textiles factory along with the rest of the district, and was always drunk. That meant one thing to his dearest mother, that Atlas must study in order for him to get a good job, and eventually care for her. That was the conclusion that each conversation concerning this matter had created. Atlas did not answer her question, he was so used to his parents he had begun to stop caring. Of course there were the nightmares he always managed to conjure in his sleep, but even those had become the norm.

When he refused to even glance in his mother's direction, she shuffled her way over to the kitchen. She grabbed the water that was still sitting in a pot over the warm stove. It had cooled significantly, but was still very hot. She took the pot and threw the water in the direction of Atlas. He shielded his face, and his legs and lower arms managed to protect the rest of his body from the attack. His mother then took a stick, and began to beat him mercilessly. His screams had been covered by the cloth she put in his mouth the second he began to scream from the hot water.

Otto ran through the main door of the house, having heard the initial cry for help, and pulled Atlas away from their mother. Otto put Atlas on the metal table that was used by the mayor's son just 6 hours before. “Mother, I believe father told me to come and find you. He needs you to help him find a peacekeeper who owes me money from treating his wife the other day.” Otto spoke without looking at her.

“Why don't you go find him?” She questioned, lacking emotion in her tone.

“I'm afraid I must be somewhere in about an hour.” Otto answered, his hands were formed into fists at this point, and it took all of his strength to not show her the wrath he was hiding. She left.

“I'm fine, you don't need to look at anything.” Atlas gained his brother's attention.

“Your arms look very red, what happened?” Otto ignored Atlas' excuse as always.

Atlas answered, admitting defeat. He could never lie to Otto as it wasn't in the nature of their relationship. “She threw hot water on me.”

“Can you still feel everything?” Otto crossed his arms. He did not appear surprised at all, as if it happened often.

“Yes.” Atlas had not been looking at Otto for a few minutes now.

“Well, let's just try and cool everything down a bit. It doesn't look like too bad of a burn from what I can tell, but go dunk your limbs into the water bucket.” Atlas tried to object, thinking he would be fine without it, but eventually gave in to his brother's order.

After washing his skin, Atlas felt much better. He went out to the backyard, which was really just a pile of dirt with one small tree, which was dying. There was a pile of about 4 or 5 logs of wood, and a cloth that was covering 3 knives on the ground. The peacekeepers did not want the citizens of Panem to own weapons, afraid of a possible uprising. However, Otto made a very secretive trade many years ago for throwing knives to help him and Atlas take out any anger they had on the wood logs, rather than another person. There were 3 circles on each log, about 2 inches in diameter. Atlas grabbed one of the knives and chucked it at the middle circle of the top log. He hit the target, but also managed to knock the log out of the pile, but continued throwing knives for a few minutes until Otto came out.

“You're getting very good at this.” Otto complimented.

“Learned from the best.” Atlas refused to look Otto in the eye.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Otto asked.

Atlas sighed, and dropped the 3 knives within his hand, covering them again with the cloth. “I'm fine, I'm not even thinking about mother, it's just fun to throw knives.” He expressed with a small smile. Atlas then looked across the horizon, and saw the orange sky. “Hey, look! It's almost Sundown! We better get going if we want to hold up our tradition.” Atlas grabbed his shirt which had been discarded when he started sweating. They both smiled at each other, and began on their trek to the field.

They stumbled upon it a few years ago. It was probably the last piece of beauty in district 8, a small, flowery field which was filled with beautiful colors whenever Sunset arrived. The textile factories within the district created disgusting industrial fumes, and had killed most of the grass along with many other types of plant life within the electric fence. This field seemed to have been left untouched. Atlas smiled as he laid down on top of the flowers, watching the Sun move down the sky. It was a tradition they began when Otto turned 16, now he was 21. Every year they came to the field on the day before every Reaping day, smelled the flowers, and watch a beautiful sun down to be sure that they could have it in their memories if either of them were chosen for the gruesome parade of the Capitol. They both rolled around in the last patch of green grass in the land while laughing. Later, when they were both sitting upright watching the sky, Otto spoke. “It's your second to last year,” Atlas had turned 17 about 1 month ago. Otto smiled at Atlas as the sun continued on its path downward.

“Yeah, just next year and then you won't have to worry about me anymore.” Atlas did not even glance in the direction of his brother.

“I'll always worry about you. Can we still continue to come here?” Atlas looked toward Otto, who had just glanced away, his eyes looked to be on fire from the reflection of the Sun.

“As long as the peacekeepers don't catch us.” He replied, glaring back toward the Sun as it hit the horizon. There was silence for a moment, Atlas crossed his arms as he spoke. “I just wish they would do there job sometimes. I know everyone hates the Capitol, but they never notice anything that is going on in our house when dad is drunk, or mom is on a rampage.”

“I know. Our family has more money than most, so they don't pay as close attention to the crime in our part of the district.” Otto stared at the ground. “But let's not talk about that, how are your arms feeling?”

“Better.” That was the only answer Atlas would give.

Once the Sun had dived completely under the horizon, Otto tackled Atlas. The wrestled for a few minutes, laughing and trying to clear the air of the depressing mood. The punches and kicks each threw at the other scared many of the animals from the patch of grass, probably to never be seen again. After a few minutes of quietly lying in the flowerbed, they hiked back to the house, arriving to see that both parents had fallen asleep. Knowing what was going to happen tomorrow, even though it was still early, the brothers decided to do the same.

When Atlas woke up, he discovered his prediction to have come true. He had kicked the blanket off the bed and his body was halfway hanging off of the side. Otto had decided to give Atlas the entire bed, as with every night before Reaping day as he wanted Atlas to have at least one last night of comfort without the fear of the arena haunting his thoughts. However, Atlas had a nightmare as usual. This time he saw a drunk version of Otto standing next to him with a sword, not even able to recognize Atlas. Atlas had run through the desert of an unknown arena and behind him ran his brother, mother, father, and Thalia, all drunk. Each had a weapon of which they seemed to carry a supernatural skill over, Otto with a sword, mother with an ax, father with a spear, and Thalia who seemed to be capable of killing someone with a simple, rubber ball. He ran and ran through the desert, but after what felt like hours, Thalia murdered him with a hit to his neck. As he died, he felt as though his skin was burning off, and soon he was totally incapable of moving, but still felt the pain. When he woke up, and notice his position on the mattress, he attempted to shift his weight so that he would remain on the bed. Apparently, his attempt was in vain, as the second he moved, he fell on to the floor next to Otto, waking him up.

Otto noticed the shaking after a minute of rubbing his eyes. He grabbed on to his little brother and comforted him, forcing him to tell him about his dream. Otto took Atlas down to get some water, and noticed that their parents had already left. “I'm okay, Otto!” Atlas screamed, throwing his hands up in defiance. “I'm used to the dreams, they don't bother me as much anymore. Besides, you worrying about me all the time will not help pay for the alcohol bills that dad has collected!”

Otto shot a look at Atlas when he said this. “No, it doesn't help with that situation, but let me worry about those. Anyway, what do the bills have to do with your nightmare?” He interrogated the tangent.

“Nothing,” Atlas clenched his fists under the table. “But, you should have told me about the money. I can probably find a job, you don't have to support me any longer.”

“Shut up, you know I'm not leaving until I know you're safe.” Otto insisted, sitting down at the opposite end of the table, resting his hands behind his head while leaning against the window.

“But I am safe! I can deal with mom and dad, I'll be fine.” Atlas screamed.

“Let me put it another way, I'll leave, when you stop being so depressed because of your current situation. Once you're happy, I know I don't need to be here as much.” Otto said with a small smile, and grabbed Atlas' glass, heading back to the sink. “Go get ready, the reaping begins at 12:15, which is in just a few hours.”

Atlas walked back in to his parents' bedroom and found the bucket full of warmed clean water. The water had been boiled, and left to cool for a little while, allowing for all of the dirt to wash completely off of Atlas' skin. He scrubbed himself clean, and grabbed a small cloth to dry himself off. When he made it back to the other bedroom, he found a button-up shirt, brown dress pants, and a belt on the mattress. He dressed himself, and walked back down the steps. Waiting for him at the bottom were a pair of shiny brown leather shoes. He had a couple more hours until the reaping, which meant he should begin walking. On their way, Otto turned to his younger brother, “don't forget, there's more of a chance to be picked this year.” How could Atlas forget? It was the quarter quell, which allowed for a new twist to be added in the already twisted game, not only 2 tributes would be picked from each district, but 4, 2 girls and 2 boys.

“Don't remind me.” Atlas said grimly. They walked in silence for the rest of the trip. 

When they arrived to the ceremony, the area around the stage was packed with all families from the district. On the outside, the Justice building was very ugly, made from metal and gray bricks. It had no color to make it beautiful, though, Atlas had heard the inside contained items most citizens would never be capable of imagining. After signing himself as present, Atlas paced over to stand next to Thalia with the other kids who were 17 years old. Terra had been holding her little sister, who had been crying and screaming all night even though she was still only 11, however after a small conversation, Terra trotted over to Thalia and Atlas.

She put on a happy face, but the constant rubbing of her head and drooping eyes told Thalia and Atlas that she was dizzy, which meant she probably hadn't eaten anything for at least a few days. Terra was good at hiding these things, but Thalia and Atlas trained their eyes to notice how Terra's body reacted to starvation. When she stood directly in front of them, she began to laugh and jump around, forcing them to dance again. Even though it gave each a moment of happiness, the pageant was about to begin, so Terra was forced to leave to stand with other kids her age.

As usual, the reaping began with the approved speech from the Capitol, describing the country's past as a sort of heroic endeavor, as Panem rose from the ashes that once was called North America. The speech never mentions the horrific methods the country takes to keep control, as that might cause a rebellion. Then came a speech from Mayor Keene, and the only victor of District 8, Woof. Woof never spoke to anyone, he seemed distant from the rest of the world, but wasn't a drunk or a drug addict such as most of the tributes, just quiet and unresponsive. Woof stood at the microphone and said only 3 words, “Happy Hunger Games.” He then sat down, his speech was not cheerful nor sad, more as if Woof was bored.

The escort for district 8, the one who gave the approved speech from the capitol, owned the name Skene Greenlaw. Multiple stylists dressed him a bright purple and orange suit, which sparkled when light flashed upon it, with black bow tie. He had dark skin, and many shades of makeup plastered on his face. After both speeches had been completed, Skene stood in front of the microphone and addressed the audience. “Welcome!” He spoke with a cheerful tone, “Happy Hunger Games! Now, enough with this dilly dallying, let's get on with choosing the 4 lucky children who are allowed by the gracious Capitol to represent their district in the 50th Annual Hunger Games!” He walked over to the bowl that contained the female names, and strolled back.

The entire audience was silent as he wasted time attempting to open the note. When he finally unfolded the small piece of paper, he uttered “Terra Inchcape.”

Shock ran through Atlas as he watched one of his best friends slowly make her way up onto the stage. He could tell that she was shaking slightly, but was still attempting to keep a smile glued to her face. Atlas mentally promised to find her during the small amount of time the tributes had before being shoved onto the train, and if Skene talked to her at all when she arrived on stage, Atlas missed it. Skene went on to pick the first male tribute. “Indigo Keene.” He said allowed.

There must have been at least 3 seconds of dead silence from the audience before everyone turned to their neighbor and began to talk. That was almost impossible, Indigo was the mayor's son, most saw Indigo as untouchable. Atlas looked to where Indigo was standing, he was next to the group of friends he always talked with at school. The color had drained from his face, but he had been gazing at Atlas the entire time as he began to walk towards the stage. When he arrived, he saw that his father seemed to be incapable of moving, any movements the mayor made looked unnatural and forced, and he was shaking.

Skene apparently did not understand the confusion of Indigo being chosen as tribute as he stalked back over to the female bowl. Everyone settled down, and Skene was capable of reading the name without any issues of clarity, “Ivory Vipointe.”

Atlas recognized the name, but it wasn't until she was walking through the rest of the children that he knew who she was. She was a 13 year old girl who had lost both of her parents to a robber, forcing her into a community home. He did not know much about her past, but he knew that after that event, she rarely spoke to anyone, and seemed to flinch whenever anyone attempted to speak to her directly. Otto told Atlas to never go to the community home, as this is how he could end up, distant and scarred just like Woof. She was small, appearing too look about 9, and had tanned skin, though not as dark as Terra's skin. When she stood on stage, she looked even tinier compared to Indigo, who was six feet, and Terra, who was 5 and a half feet tall. Though, she stood strong, while never looking at anyone in the audience.

The reaction of the audience was not as explosive as the reaction that Indigo received, she did not have many friends, so there was no sorrow, only a level of discomfort at a very young tribute being chosen. Skene shook her hand and put an arm around her shoulders while he laughed with glee, it wasn't evil, just oblivious. He then strutted back to the bowl that contained the male names.. Atlas was deep in thought, so he barely heard it when Skene said the words “Atlas Spectral.”

Because he was deep in thought, it took a nudge from Thalia to regain his senses. He looked to the stage, and many kids in the audience were staring at him as Skene repeated “Atlas Spectral.” Atlas' eyes widened, and he shakily made his way to the stairs attached to the front. After he made it to the front, Skene had all of the tributes shake hands. 

Terra was the only one who managed to look anything but terrified.


End file.
